


A Future Uncertain

by sahrmael



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Friendship, Gen, He deserves happiness, Post-Altissia, Post-Episode Ignis, Tragedy, and he deserves the world for it, from my ff.net, ignis is a good man in a storm, ignis took a real hit for the team
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:35:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27288766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sahrmael/pseuds/sahrmael
Summary: Ignis awakens to a touch of amnesia following the evacuation of Altissia, and recalls only fragments of the role he played amidst the Rite. But even with just pieces accessible to him, Ignis is certain he'd make the same choices again. (Post-Episode Ignis.)
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia & Prompto Argentum & Noctis Lucis Caelum & Ignis Scientia, Lunafreya Nox Fleuret/Noctis Lucis Caelum
Kudos: 2





	A Future Uncertain

What the others do not know can never hurt them.

Ardyn had been suspect from the beginning, and had made no attempt to assist them in believing otherwise. In fact, he had appeared to _revel_ in it, playing the part of an uncanny stranger with far more depth and deceit than had made Ignis, ever perceptive, comfortable.

Of no consequence, the man had said, and while the words had not been a complete lie, nothing could have prepared the royal retinue for the inevitability of their weight: What had been of no consequence was their ability to do stop his meddling and preserve the Oracle's life.

Ignise remembers precious little following the Chancellor's attempt at trickery on the water, looking to fool him with the face of the scarred man he's known nearly his whole life through. He recalls the pouring rain as he lay covering Noctis' unconscious body with his own, prepared to sacrifice life and limb for not only his dearest friend, but his king. For the uncertain future.

If that had meant Ignis' own life amounted to little else, then it would be so.

The Six, however, appeared now to have other plans for him.

There is little regret to be found in the man who lies quietly beneath warm sheets. Were he to be faced with the ordeal yet again, Ignis is certain that his choices would have followed the very same path.

With eyes closed – for what use are they to him at present? – he thinks back on the taste of blood and fast resolution, recalling a voice unknown to him that sounded as though it had long been lost to ages before. A surge had rushed through him, comparable perhaps only to the startling shock felt upon one of their group blundering a spellcore in the heat of battle. A light then, origin unknown to his now conscious mind, with an intensity unlike anything Ignis had ever seen – or ever would see again.

Something about those brief seconds of recollection shakes him, muscles tense and an intake of breath sharp enough to pierce glass. It serves to alert his watch, positioned at the bedside, radiating anger like heat rivalling that of the Astral Shard.

"Ignis."

No question Gladiolus knows him to be awake. He weighs the probability of a comforting touch that does not come.

Understandably, they are _all_ shaken.

"I'm fine," is the quiet reply, and Ignis faintly hears a small sigh leave the other man. But he's less concerned with himself and much more worried for Noctis. "How is Noct...?"

"Alive. Asleep down the hall. Prompto's... keeping an eye on him."

Ignis nods. "And the Lady Lunafreya, she is...?"

He needn't see the other man to know that the look on his rugged face tells all. It's in the air, his apprehension, his disappointment. In the mind's eye, Ignis sees Gladiolus' figure towering over him, unable to speak, swallowing his words.

It's Ignis' turn to sigh, lamenting not only the Oracle's passing, but that her death is yet another in a string of the prince's loved ones. What a pity, he thinks, uncertain as to just how much more Noctis can take before he breaks.

Can't be long at all, now.

Shuffling to one side, fingers graze the edge of an end table upon which rest his glasses. Without a second thought, he nimbly unfolds and slides them into place, for all the bloody good they'll do.

_"Ignis."_

"I'm fine," he repeats, a bit more sternly this time, though his lack of sight and familiarity with the location both serve to work against him. "I'd like to see..." He smirks bitterly, faintly. "I _should be there when Noct wakes."_

Telltale steps come from behind, and a hand rests atop his shoulder, tense hesitation bleeding off the tips of Gladiolus' fingers. Ignis hears him inhale, pause, then feels the other nudging him gently in the direction of what must be the door.

Whether Gladiolus' heavy silence is out of respect or mourning for the dead – or something else entirely – Ignis is uncertain. But, at present, he's convinced himself that little else matters but their prince and his welfare. Everything else – including the precise sequence of events amidst his mission – can wait.

What Ignis cannot yet recall – what the others do not yet know – can _never_ hurt them.


End file.
